I want to add a few more lines of poetry, not my own (Nympha_Nivis(c)), but they touched me...

"Ships sailed in the sky..."

Ships sailed in the sky,
Across the sunset, along the fog,
Breaking away from the earth,
Leaving the shipyard of deceit.

They sailed slowly, without hiding,
That, having left the muddy swamp,
Cutting the anchors,
They headed into the rippling depths.

In those lands, the day laughs,
A calm breeze gently whispers,
Behind the veil of night – a shadow
Covers with an атлас dream.

Water stretches like a ribbon,
Behind the stern, a mirage in the distance -
A guiding star.
Ships sailed in the sky…


“Dove”
It has flown tens of thousands of kilometers,
Its wing has touched hundreds of clouds.
At a distance of a stretched meter,
A ray of sunlight plays in its eyes.

It has seen many humiliations,
That wound human pride,
In a geometric progression of deprivations,
It has experienced countless deaths.

Its priceless gift carries it through the world
Through an ocean of hopes and waves of tears,
And day after day, in search of an answer,
It circles above the labyrinth of languid dreams.

Here, people hide their dreams, their aspirations,
Burying them deeper, like a treasure,
And it is ready to take on their suffering,
Only if they do not end up in hell.

And for the prayers, the birds send him offerings.
Its wing will cover the sorrowful sin,
And only the heart of the dove relentlessly seeks good fortune
And will never contain all human pleasures.

It will fly away, as soon as the light clears the way.
Towards the northern wind and the star,
No one will remember it in this poor dream.
But the image of the dove will remain everywhere…

---------------

My bright world. It was created by someone in Paint.
It was sketched by someone on paper.
It is read in a LiveJournal feed.
And I will fold it like origami.
A world of smells, doubts, feelings, and tastes,
A world of bright expectations and mistakes,
Strung together on time, like beads.
A world of bitter tears and joyful smiles.
A world with the internet, the Beatles, and a guitar.
A world of sweet dreams and plush toys,
Where it is good to lie under a blanket,
Where you can talk and listen.
Perhaps we are afraid of death because -
It is so beautiful, great, and multifaceted.
Loved ones: sensations, feelings, faces.
My world. It is so welcoming and so strange.
(c) ?